In many people's youthful days, there's always this white shirt, shining brightly in the sunlight.
Imagining themselves as the girl beside that boy, solving problems together in the afternoon classroom, laughing and playing under the maple leaves after school.
Wearing the boy's jacket and acting cute, eyes red and asking for a hug, doing those rebellious things in the eyes of teachers and parents of that era.
Tang Yanqi always thought she never had that phase; her childhood destined her to mature earlier than her peers. She had the age of youth, but not the years of youth.
She had no passionate, romantic years, nor had the rebellious innocence, always rational and calm.
Tang Yanqi always thought she wouldn't do those things only young girls do, like kissing her boyfriend under a tree, like sharing a cotton candy with her boyfriend, or like now, on the street, ignoring the gaze of passersby, lying on his back, letting him carry her forward.
